Caught In The In-Between
by PrincessHeartStar
Summary: "Do you think I'm pretty?" She asks in a small, weak voice. A voice surprising even herself. "Beautiful."/Emma-centric with Lemma mentions/hints. Rated T for Eating Disorder


Caught In The In-Between

**Disclaimer: I do not own Red Band Society or any characters mentioned, if I did Lemma would still be together and the show would have another season, but that's another argument for another time.**

She's five years old the first time she can actually recall any memories.

Everything from ages 0-4 were a blur, a whirl-wind of birthday candles and potty training sessions and piggy back rides.

It's the middle of August and she's eating an ice cream cone while wearing a yellow sundress.

And of course food and dresses don't mesh well together-any proper girl would know that.

But she's five, and twirling hair around her tiny finger as she eats.

She's doesn't have a care in the world, who cares if she's not behaving properly.

Her dad gets a laugh out of it.

And she giggles along with him because her dad is her superhero and knight-in-shinning-armor and best friend all at once.

She had just started Kindergarden and had yet to make a friend her age.

Maybe she'll have better luck some other day.

/

The elementary school years fly by with the blink of an eye.

She is now a mature 11 year old and about to enter the fifth grade.

But this year things are different because she gets put into a different class, one for extra-smart people because her grades are above-expectations.

And she thinks nothing of it. And her parents display their proudest smiles and everything is okay.

School makes her happy.

She had yet to feel what it was like to fail.

/

By the time she's twelve, Mother Nature comes knocking and puberty barges in.

By twelve she is enrolled in almost all advanced classes and spends more time with her nose in a book than painting her nails or watching TV or playing across the street with the neighbor girl who has a peppy voice and a friendly wave.

It's the middle of December when the bullying starts.

She's in class, answering a question when a blonde twig looks in her direction and laughs.

And then another asks where she got her clothes in a mocking tone.

And another Barbie doll asks why her hair looks so stupid.

And the words cut into her little library brain and spin for days like a carousel.

And she wants to cry and cry until she's dry out of tears.

It's a ride.

And she wants nothing more than to get off.

/

She's thirteen now and a lot wiser.

She's starting the seventh grade and learning how to block out the taunting words and cynical smiles.

She's in gym class in a ratty uniform when she takes note of how the clothing hangs off the other girls in the room. It just sticks to her little self.

The baggy clothes hide her stomach but they do nothing to hide the truth in her thighs and arms and calves.

Her body jiggles when she walks.

She feels like a penguin.

Only difference is penguins are cute.

/

It's a year later and she is sitting in health class.

Video after video plays informing the class about obesity and the humiliation and shame it causes people to feel.

The usually talkative teacher is silent and the girls who gossip are glancing away from the screen in disgust.

But Emma's eyes are glued to the screen, glazed over in fear.

Anyone in that room could become as a big as a house by eating all the things normal kids are supposed to enjoy.

Anyone including her. Especially her.

Anything's possible.

The girls who spew hate are perfectly sewed together with muscle and curves and just the right amount of fat.

Because normal girls would never let it get that bad.

Normal girls have control.

A thing Emma realizes she is lacking in.

It's all about control

/

It's the summer between eighth and ninth grade.

She's watching the news with her parents and some fashion show is being broadcasted.

That's the first time she becomes enchanted by fashion.

The pretty colors and beautiful articles of clothing and thin, gorgeous models that get to show off that glorious art for the world to see.

Models are pretty and skinny and smart.

She decides at that moment that she too will be pretty and skinny and smart.

Maybe then people will actually notice her.

/

By Mid-July she is slowly changing.

Sometimes change is good. A blessing in disguise.

She has a new wardrobe, developed quite the fashion sense and gives into reading magazines once in a while.

She has cut out junk food from her diet and began exercising on her own terms.

Because really she was never cut out to be a star athlete anyway.

And she's losing weight the healthy way.

She's becoming beautiful.

/

When high school starts, Emma feels invincible.

Boys are giving her smiles, girls are giving her nods of respect and not hateful glares.

And she's even managed to make a friend.

Just one, but it's all she needs.

Did it matter that she skipped breakfast and lunch and dinner the night before?

Of course not.

She was simply becoming beautiful and taking a few twists and turns along the ride.

She feels like she's on a cloud.

And she's too scared now to jump down.

/

It's November and it's cold.

It's not snowing, because it's California and it rarely snows.

But it is cold.

The air is chill and nice and it makes it easier for her to breathe.

She walks down the sidewalk and her shoes kick rocks.

She wants to run. Run so fast she becomes out of breath.

But that wouldn't look good on her list of accomplishments.

/

She made two new friends. Ana and Ed.

They are attached at her hip.

They whisper into her ear, she's a fat fat fatty and doesn't deserve any food offered to her, sit her up straight and help her be the best version of herself.

Ana and Ed are her best friends.

And they are here to stay.

/

She's doing so well. And you'd think it would be impossible for her to slip up now.

But nothing is impossible. And then part of her plan comes crashing down.

She tells her parents two different stories to get out of eating dinner one night.

And when they finally put the pieces together they turn tomato red with anger.

And her lips become tight and pursed and sewed shut.

And she shovels potato after potato, lettuce piece after lettuce piece and a pork chop into her tunnel of a mouth.

Then she cries, and muffles her apologies through sobs and shameful glances.

And her parents tell her it's okay. And she's a kid allowed to make mistakes.

She nods and smiles. Because it is in fact okay.

She just bought herself more time.

/

As the season changes, things become harder. It's now March, Spring is starting.

And she can't hide in the layers of baggy clothes for much longer.

School becomes harder, her grades fall.

Nothing to drastic but enough to make her parents raise their hawk eyes and watch closely.

And then she noticed her body beginning to change.

Her hair starts falling out, her skin becomes greasy. And she can't remember the last time she's seen her eyes so sunken in.

And it scares her yet excites something inside her.

She weighs 91 pounds.

And she now has enough control to keep up the game.

/

She's at school, roaming the halls between passing period when her world becomes dark.

She was merely retrieving a book from her locker one minute.

And the next she was falling, and falling fast, her feet dragging her body down hard to the ground.

And her eyes give into the darkness.

She's officially coming undone.

/

White clouds her vision when she regains consciousness. There are tubes in her at every opening and an IV stuck in her arm. And an oxygen tube over her nose.

And she wants to cry, but she would not give the doctors and nurses the satisfaction of seeing her begin to break. She didn't even want to give her parents that much power.

Her parents and a doctor talk treatment plan. They say a lot but the only words that register in her ears are: Anorexic, sick, help, therapy, and meal plan.

All she wants to do now is go back to sleep. Because in all honesty she's tired. She's really fucking tired.

Emma figured that what was the come was outpatient therapy and maybe some family counseling sessions. But then they start talking about extended stays and moving her to a inpatient hospital.

And she doesn't want to cry anymore. She wants to fight back and ripe out the poking tubes and wires and show them, show everyone, just how fine she was.

She was always fine. Always okay.

It's what she specialized in.

/

The ride to Ocean Park Hospital is awkward and silent.

The tour she's given is simple and the set of rules is expected. She nods and smiles at what they expect from her.

School, therapy, breakfast, lunch, dinner, then repeat until you get the cycle.

And the easy part is following the repetitive day plan.

The hard part is actually going through with, well any of it.

/

At 15 she is meeting her first real friends. The first people she knows will stick around for a while-it's not like they can go anywhere really, they are all stuck in the hospital.

There's Dash and then there's Leo.

And they poke fun at her sure, but they have her back. They make school fun and nobody speaks a word about their conditions.

They feel like the brothers she's never had.

And she starts to relax. Just a little bit.

/

At 15 she's having her first kiss.

It's nothing like she expected. For one, it's on the roof of the hospital of all places.

It's short but sweet. A sweet first kiss, simple as that.

And Leo and her had been flirting for weeks now, it was only a matter of time really.

And he makes her feel warm inside which is difficult considering her body temperature.

And she feels better. Leo makes everything better.

/

At 16 she is kissing two boys. One out of love, and one out of Amusement? Entertainment? Attention? She doesn't know.

Leo had left her, broken her heart and any self confidence she had. She felt empty and alone. And she was tired of crying. Tired of making jabs at Leo for the hell of it.

So she flirts with Jordi like mad, and if it happens to make Leo jealous along the way then so be it.

Only a few weeks later Leo and Emma are caught in a heated moment and kiss.

And all thoughts of Jordi are erased. Because really it was always her and Leo and it should have never been anything but.

She's 16 and her heart is slowly being put back together.

/

At 17 she is ready to leave the hospital.

She goes from 86 pounds to a healthy 102. And she becomes better without even really becoming better.

Her lies are more thought out and they have no reason not to trust her when she says she's better.

She chews and chews and chews. She let's the food and pills and mom-and-dad talks weigh down her brain, make the voices a little quieter.

Because she's a good girl. She's a smart girl. And smart girls don't starve their brains. They don't shiver in the summer. And they don't turn hospital visits into extended stays.

She's on her way to becoming a smart girl.

A new kind of smart

/

It's a week out of the hospital and her parents still treat her like a china doll. And she still doesn't eat, and when she does, she finds ways to rid it from her body.

It's one week when she has a mental and physical breakdown. A week when she calls Leo over and over again. (He was too busy sucking face with Kara to notice)

She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh because it's expected, because nobody willingly sticks around in her life.

Her parents are liars, Leo won't answer the phone and all her so-called friends from Ocean Park are silent when she needs them the most.

She has never wanted to die more in that moment.

And not just die in a figurative sense, but an actual literal sense.

She wants to black out, see the light and never look back. She wants to not have to worry about her parents or Leo or Kara fucking Souders. She doesn't want to be strong anymore, and fuck anyone who disagrees.

She wants to burn her body and feel her lungs fill up with smoke.

She hates herself.

And she isn't sure why more people don't see that.

/

She's one again faced with a white light. Another hospital, no the same one actually. She's back at Ocean Park.

Everything is white and everything is spinning. She wants to throw up.

But she blinks. Blinks and opens her eyes to her mom's mascara teared-face, her dad sleeping on the chair next to the bed. And Leo was in another chair on the other side, holding her hand. Her tiny, cold little hand. And she's only just realizing how tiny it is.

She's only just realizing how tiny she is. Why did it take her fried-up, deluded brain that long for her to understand what she was doing?

Her voice is raspy and she wants to talk but it hurts. Everything hurts. Except the hand that Leo is still holding, that doesn't seem to hurt at all.

She glances up to see his face was blotchy and pale, he had been crying. Crying over her, she has made him cry.

And his crying face is looking back at her, meeting her eyes for the first time in weeks.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" She asks in a small, weak voice. A voice surprising even herself.

"Beautiful."

It's one word.

Nine letters.

But it's enough.

And more importantly,

she believes it.


End file.
